


While in Paris

by LonelyIntrovert



Category: Call the Midwife, pupcake - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Lesbian Relationship, Lesbian Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6600229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyIntrovert/pseuds/LonelyIntrovert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first Pupcake smut.  Events of Delia and Patsy's trip to Paris.  Dear God, don't judge me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Floor Show

“Pats…” Delia murmured softly as the lights dimmed around them, “what on earth…”

“Shush, Deels,” Patsy whispered back, gripping her hand, “just have fun.”

Delia’s expression only grew more confused, even a little frightened, though it went unnoticed as the audience hushed and anticipation filled the air. The women around them spoke French amongst each other, making it hard for Delia to figure out what was going on exactly. Cigarette smoke clouded above them and as the crowd hushed, the stage lights brightened and a spotlight appeared. 

…and then a woman clad in a miniature tux jacket, top hat, and fishnet stockings stalked on to the stage, prompting a roar from the crowd. Delia’s eyes widened with shock, and she hurriedly glanced at Patsy, only to see the other was gazing at her gently.

“Patsy, what the hell is this?!” Delia whispered in astonishment as the woman bowed grandly and took her place center stage, in front of a lone microphone. Cupping the microphone with an elegantly gloved hand, the woman smiled benignly, her lips curled slightly at the tips and her eyes serenely looked out at the crowd of women. It took almost a full minute for the applause to die down enough for her to speak.

“Good evening,” the woman purred, her voice a deep drawl that echoed a vague American accent. The crowd cheered at her voice so much that she had to patiently gesture for them to quiet. Once they did, she continued.

“Welcome ladies, to the one place in the world…where all your dreams can come true-” she began, her tone hypnotic and grand, for she was a proper show woman. There was a spatter of applause before she continued.

“…the one place in the world where you can be yourself; the one place in the world that is safe for you – that will shelter you against the hatred and judgement of those around us.

-applause-

“Tonight, ladies, there are some among us who we like to consider ‘straight’-”

There were some shrieks from the crowd, and one or two boo’s, which were quickly silenced.

“- there are those who cannot decide whether they appreciate men or women the most, and they are considered ‘bisexual’-”

A louder roar echoed throughout the audience, and several stood up to clap.

“And finally, there are those of us who are the unluckiest of all women…those of us who are too ‘disgusting’ to even be acknowledged… do I dare even speak it?”

The crowd erupted around the pair, all shouting and screaming incoherent things.

“SAY IT!”

“SPEAK IT, GREAT ONE!”

“QUEERS!”

“GAY!”

The woman paused, her gaze running over the mass of women as she appeared to absorb their energy and get high off of their eagerness. Despite herself, Delia found herself tilting forward with anticipation like the rest. The woman leaned into the microphone.

“Lesbians.”

The crowd exploded onto their feet, screaming their approval at the bluntness of the woman, and her guts to call them as they were without passing judgement. Delia and Patsy were swept up in the excitement, jumping up and clapping along with everyone else.

“Welcome!” the woman rumbling, spreading her arms wide, “to the Floor Show!” Women whistled, clapped, and screamed until they were lightheaded and their hands were numb. When they died down, the woman waited until they were all seated before continuing.

“Tonight, you will see performances by dancers from Italy! Musical acts from America! Comedy from Britain! And so, so many disgraceful acts of nudity I daresay…”

Cat calls and whistles of approval came forth from the audience. 

The woman paused for them to quiet before leaning into the microphone and breathing seductively, “Please enjoy the show, and remember, anything goes.” She then bowed to a loud applause and then took her leave. Delia looked at Patsy fully, her eyes wide.

“You knew about this? Is this why we came to Paris?” she breathed.

“I heard whispers about it at Gateways, and thought that we might as well try it out,” Patsy whispered back as the lights dimmed further around them. Delia shook her head in wonder.

“You aren’t mad, are you?” Patsy suddenly asked, alarmed. 

“Pats, this is the most wonderful thing you have ever done for me,” Delia said softly. Patsy smiled quickly before the two were forced to face the stage once more.

A single man climbed the stage, to an air of silence. The woman stared, expectant. He was dark-skinned and his hair stood out at odd angles. He gestured to the orchestra below him.

And then he began to sing.

The next few hours were almost too much for the two of them. Women dressed in corsets and fishnet stockings strutted around the stage, doing rhythmic and vulgar movements, much to their pleasure. Comedians mounted the stage and blew them away with their bluntness and open sexuality. They laughed so hard they cried. Halfway through the show, there was an act that really set them off. The lights were darker than usual, and the air was full of weed smoke and the muted moans of other women. A woman was singing, dressed in an almost transparent material that flowed around her visage hypnotically. Around her, dancers ran their hands over her, openly groping her and running their tongues over her skin. She was singing in French, so only Patsy could understand her, but the rhythm got in Delia’s bones and the image of them on stage aroused her more than she would like to freely admit. She pressed her thighs together, trying to alleviate some of the pressure and wondered idly how Patsy always managed to be so composed.  
Delia squirmed in her seat, drawing attention from the ginger-haired statue beside her. Patsy’s eyes were brighter than usual, and as she saw Delia there, cheeks flushed and her breath coming out shallow and fast, her eyes tightened. Delia froze, feeling guilty and embarrassed, for it was obvious what she was doing. Patsy continued to examine the brunette as she began to bite her lip, looking as if she were considering something. 

The taller woman then suddenly gestured towards the stage and asked, “Do you know what she is saying?” Delia shook her head no. Patsy leaned towards the other and began to recite the lyrics into Delia’s ear, her breath tickling her neck.

…and then Delia felt Patsy’s hand slip artfully over her thigh and over the top of her underwear, drawing a gasp from her. Patsy’s mouth was suddenly on Delia’s earlobe, her teeth grazing gently over her earring. Her warm breath blew across her neck, making a shudder run down her spine. The crazy part was that Patsy continued to whisper the lyrics into her ear, the musk in her voice making it hotter and more erotic. Patsy’s devilish fingers teased the top of Delia’s groin, but refused to venture lower. The trouble was that Delia was frozen to her spot, too scared to move or shift her weight for fear of someone seeing how Patsy was pleasantly torturing her…

…and all too soon the song ended and the assault lifted as the lights brightened once more, leaving Delia red-faced and panting wildly while Patsy sat idly beside her, patiently waiting for the next act. 

The most significant act was the last one, when the host came out and sang a seductive yet upbeat tune, with several dancers dressed in white tuxes similar to hers. At the very end, the show-woman turned and kissed one of the dancers full on the mouth drawing shrieks of approval from the crowd. 

And then it was all over and they were exiting the facility.


	2. The Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia and Patsy make it back to the hotel and hot things ensue.

“Come along, Deels,” Patsy said lightly, hailing a cab. Despite herself, she yawned. Glancing at her watch, she discovered it was two in the morning. A cab promptly came and the pair climbed in before Patsy gave the driver the hotel address. As it sped away, Delia suddenly became very alert, watching the large monuments crawl by through the window.  
Delia shot Patsy a side glance and found her looking out her own window, a soft smile touching her lips. Delia’s heart lurched, and before she knew what she was doing, she had laid her head on Patsy’s shoulder. Patsy gave a start, but soon grew still, allowing Delia to slip into her dreams…

The cab came to a stop and Delia awoke quickly, climbing out and enjoying the crisp night air around them as Patsy paid the fare. She had a nice power-nap, and now felt suddenly awake, mostly because she wanted to do something…

They looped arms and walked into the hotel lobby which was empty, and then clambered into the elevator. The moment the door shut, Delia pounced.

She needed to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by those women, and she wanted Patsy to know how frustrated she was; not being able to touch her and show her how she felt. Without hardly even looking, Delia rushed the taller woman, shoving her mercilessly up against the elevator wall. Patsy gave a sharp cry of shock, but then Delia felt her hands mercifully roam along her buttocks as she moaned into Delia’s mouth. 

“Delia, my God…”

Delia’s body was trembling with anticipation as she buried her face into Patsy’s blouse, lightly biting along her collarbone. 

“You make me so impatient, Patience Mount,” she murmured into Patsy’s chest, “that was so damn cruel of you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Patsy gasped, “I won’t ever do that again.”

“You better no – ah,” Delia broke off with a moan as Patsy’s hands ran over her pleasure.

The elevator suddenly dinged.

The pair instinctively threw themselves away from each other, smoothing their clothes while they did so. There was a silent pause, then the door creaked open to reveal a brightly lit and empty corridor. Delia and Patsy shared a glance before they trotted to their room, keys in hand. Patsy just managed to unlock the door before Delia yanked it open and shoved her inside.

…and then the short Welshwoman slammed the other against the door, making it wobble. They were finally in their room. There was no point in waiting. Delia ravished Patsy’s mouth while she skillfully slid her hands up her skirt and tugged down her panties. 

“Delia – fuck,” Patsy stammered, the rare swear word spurring her on. Patsy went to grope along Delia’s pelvis, but the shorter woman grabbed her wrists and held them along her sides. She had other plans on her mind. Patsy’s eyes widened. 

Delia kissed Patsy fervently, her heart fluttering at the idea in her mind. She had heard rumors of this, and had often imagined Patsy doing this to her. The thought made her groin tingle. Trying to wordlessly command Patsy to remain still, Delia pulled back and gazed at her meaningfully as she slowly knelt down in front of her. Patsy’s eyes grew to the size of sand dollars as she realized what the other was doing. Before she could say anything, Delia dove underneath her skirt. 

Patsy yelped as she felt Delia’s breath on her arousal, and her knees almost automatically began to knock together as her body began to tremble.

“Delia,” Patsy whispered in a small voice as she began to slide down the door, unable to fully support herself as her nerve endings were set alive. Delia wrapped her strong arms around Patsy’s thighs, locking them together as she continued to nose her way up Patsy’s skirt. She came into contact with Patsy’s dark curls and then set to work, sucking her clitoris and kissing along her labia. 

Patsy shuddered and released a loud gasp. Delia’s tongue found its way deep in her core, and Patsy freely moaned, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to remain upright. 

“Fuck…oh, fuck, Delia,” Patsy softly cried out into the darkened room as Delia slid two slick fingers inside her while continuing to run her tongue along her nether lips. The brunette hummed loudly at Patsy’s comments while also eagerly sucking on her clitoris, her fingers curling at the knuckle. Patsy was building so fast and so hard that her whole body began to tremble. 

Only a minute later, Patsy toed the brink and clung to Delia, soft tears in her eyes. 

“Delia,” she whimpered weakly, trying to hold on, “I need you…please, Delia, please…” 

In acknowledgement, Delia ran her hand up and down her thigh, letting the other know she was there, that she was sharing the moment, and that she was in control and would help push her over the blissful edge…

Delia curled her fingers, once, twice, three times and that was it, and Patsy was crumbling into her orgasm, a cry on her lips as her legs gave way beneath her. Delia removed her head from her skirt and helped guide Patsy to the floor, though her fingers remained inside her. While Patsy’s muscles continued to contract from the orgasm, Delia leaned forward and let Patsy taste herself on her lips. Pulling back, Delia’s eyes darkened as the aftershocks began to subside and a secondary orgasm began to build, deep in Patsy’s core. Patsy met her gaze and nodded weakly.

Delia began to pump her hand quickly, chasing it, building it up as Pasty’s hips bucked against her hand. And all too soon Patsy fell into a chasm of pleasure, pulling Delia on top of herself and ensnaring her with her body. It took several seconds for Patsy’s orgasm to subside, and when it did, she loosened her grip on the dark-haired Welshwoman. This time, Delia removed her fingers and sucked them clean, drawing a moan from Patsy. 

“Jesus, Deels, where did that come from?” she finally managed in a hoarse voice. Delia simply shrugged, blushing slightly.

“Are you okay?” Delia whispered, brushing some hair out of Patsy’s face. Patsy chuckled, her voice low and soft.

“Delia, that is the most extravagant thing you have ever done to me…my only problem is I don’t know if I will be able to walk again.” Delia giggled as she nuzzled closer to Patsy on the floor.

“…Deels?” Patsy asked quietly, stroking the other’s arms with her fingertips absent-mindedly.

“Hm?” Delia responded, noticing the hesitation in her voice.

“I – what do you consider us?”

“What do you mean, Pats?” Delia murmured back, glancing at Patsy’s face. Her expression was troubled.

“When you think about ‘us’, like…how do you form it in your mind? Are we lesbians? Are we ghosts, floating around and looking for love? Is this even real? What are we?”

“Patsy…” Delia cried softly, rolling on top of the other and gazing into her eyes. The ginger had tears in her eyes, and Delia saw a rare crack in her façade. Delia traced along Patsy’s face, trying to fight off her own tears.

“…what are we?” Patsy whispered a second time, looking frightened. 

“All I know,” Delia began slowly, “Is that I love you. I don’t give a damn about what other people call us. To me, we are two people who are madly in love. This is real, Pats, and I will never let you go.” Patsy nodded and clutched Delia to her chest as the brunette lovingly wiped her tears away. Several still minutes went by. Then Patsy tapped lightly on Delia’s shoulder, in which she rolled off of her. 

There was a pause before Patsy shifted and stood, her legs slightly wobbly. Delia followed quietly, noticing how the other was gazing at her.

Patsy wrapped her arms around the other and tugged her towards the bed, an impish grin on her face. Delia giggled, knowing that it was her turn, and that her dark fantasy was about to come true. The taller woman gently shoved the other down before kneeling between her legs and nudging them apart. Patsy smoothly removed Delia’s silk stockings before tossing them behind her. Next came her skirt, then her rather frivolous panties.

With Delia exposed, Patsy kissed along her inner thigh, lighting Delia’s nerves ablaze. The brunette squirmed. 

“Pats…” Delia moaned, her hips bucking slightly.

“Miss Busby, if you don’t keep still, I will have to restrain you,” Patsy said sternly in her best nurse’s voice, her breath tickling Delia’s flushed skin. 

“Patsy, please!” Delia urged, her hands gripping the bed sheets.

Doing as commanded, Patsy leaned in and began her ministrations, making Delia suck in a breath. The brunette’s back arched with pleasure, so much so that Patsy had to wrap her arms around Delia’s thighs to keep her from writhing too much. 

Patsy paused to kiss along Delia’s pelvis, from one hip bone to the other. Delia whimpered beneath her, close to her climax. 

“Patsy…” Delia moaned softly, her hands tugging gently at Patsy’s hair.

“I got you, Deels, I have you,” Patsy reassured the other lovingly. Patsy then leaned down and continued her treatment, Delia feeling her deep in her core. Delia yelped and soon she climaxed, clinging to Patsy so hard that the other froze in her spot, unable to move.

When the sweet aftershocks began to subside, Patsy sucked the fluid clean from Delia’s groin then nosed her way back up and cradled Delia, gaining entry to her mouth. Delia reacted numbly, too overtaken to properly respond. 

“Oh, God, Pats, I love you,” Delia finally managed, wrapping her arms around Patsy’s neck and pulling her closer. Patsy kissed her with more fervor, her hands freeing Delia of the rest of her clothes. Once she was completely nude, Patsy’s mouth began to roam along Delia’s breasts, gently sucking and kissing on every curve. Delia moaned.

“You are so beautiful,” Patsy whispered, tracing her fingertips along her navel. 

“Patsy – Christ, Pats, please…” Delia said, her eyes widening in the dimness. Patsy was waiting for this, so she reached down and entered the other with two fingers. Patsy wanted to see her face this time. Unlike Delia, Patsy ran her thumb across Delia’s clitoris while she penetrated her, her mouth exploring hers as well. Her hand moved slowly, though she went deeper than she normally would have. They didn’t need to fear being overheard that night. Delia gasped as her body lurched with pleasure in response to the ginger’s ministrations. This one built fast, and soon Delia cried out without reservation as the orgasm took hold of her, her face lighting up with husky lust.

The brunette collapsed back on the bed and Patsy gently lowered herself beside her, cradling her. She waited for Delia to catch her breath before speaking.

“You are so magnificent,” she murmured, kissing the Welsh woman gently.

“You’re too perfect,” Delia responded with a chuckle. 

For the first time, the pair slept completely nude, a strange but interesting experience for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I scared myself writing this.


	3. Taking Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short one-shot of when Patsy and Delia find themselves grounded in their room during a thunderstorm

Thunder echoed dully around Paris as rain pounded down on the relatively empty streets. In the hotel room a record player emitted a rather smooth tune, some American album, that Delia really should’ve known, but at the moment she was not directly focused on the music. She was desperately trying to mute her moans as Patsy, seemingly for the hundredth time, (not that she was complaining), stroked the inside of Delia’s thighs, her mouth exploring the brunette’s creamy breasts as she did so.

The bed creaked lightly with every movement, though propriety was thrown out of the window that day. The couple were completely nude, and had been like that all day, laying around the room and participating in slow, lazy love-making. The two really couldn’t pass up the opportunity of a day in bed, so when they woke up to ominous storm clouds in the sky, they opened the windows to let in the cool air, plucked some choice albums from the stack they bought, and cracked open a bottle of champagne before returning to their haven underneath sheets.

In hindsight, Delia decided they should REALLY do this more often.

Nothing was rushed, nothing was desperate or needy…they finally felt sexually sated for once. They had all the time in the world. Sometimes they would stop midway for a break, and it didn’t matter to either of them; they knew they could finish it later. Delia had time to explore every part of Patsy’s body, mapping out her skin with her tongue. The ginger proved to be quite the moaner, Delia having to shush her on multiple occasions. Not that she minded it in the slightest: they just happen to be in a hotel room surrounded by people on either side of them.

Patsy moved her hands up to pull the brunette in for a kiss while grinding her hips wantonly on Delia’s waist. The Welshwoman moaned, once again feeling desire flare up within her as she reached down and teased Patsy’s groin. The ginger was soaked, with both sweat and other unspeakable bodily fluids.

“Jesus, Pats,” Delia gasped, breaking of the kiss. The ginger slowed to a stop, a sheepish and slightly tired look on her face. However, lust predominantly showed in her expression as she gazed inquiringly down at her girlfriend.

“I have to pee,” Delia explained, part of her not wanting to leave the ginger’s fiery embrace.

“Oh,” Patsy said with a blush before rolling off of the Welshwoman. Raising up, Delia avoided the two empty bottles of champagne rolling treacherously on the floor before flicking the light on in the bathroom using the toilet, not bothering to shut the door. Mind buzzing slightly due to the champagne, Delia suppressed an irritatingly unyielding yawn. After flushing the toilet, she sluggishly hobbled back before slipping under the covers, Patsy wrapping her arms around her and spooning her. Planting a kiss on the junction of her neck and shoulder, Patsy continued up her neck, and then to her ear.

“What time is it?” Patsy whispered, her warm breath sending a shiver down Delia’s spine.

Squinting at the clock, Delia answered, “1:30.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you want to order lunch?” Delia inquired, running her fingers along Patsy’s arms.

“I’m still kind of full from brunch,” Patsy said, referring to their meal at ten thirty that morning that they ordered from room service.

“How’s about this,” Patsy began after a moment of silence, “Let’s take a nap and then go out for dinner.”

“Sounds nice,” Delia hummed, her eyes growing heavy-lidded, “where did you want to go?”

“Oh, I have a few places in mind,” Patsy said evasively.

“How mysterious,” Delia said with a smirk.

“You’ll like it, I swear,” Patsy reassured.

“Mm-hmm,” Delia said suspiciously, “Whatever you say.”

“Oh, shush,” Patsy chortled, her breath disturbing Delia’s hair.

The two fell silent, and it wasn’t long before they fell into a peaceful slumber, the record player now playing Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man”.


	4. Poolside Mingling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy and Delia look for relief from the heat of Paris in the hotel pool, where they meet like-minded women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so much fluff  
> Please enjoy, and leave a comment, I love getting feedback!

Patsy shifted, adjusting her sunglasses so she could properly gaze through the crowd at the pool. She lay stretched out on a sun-bathing chair, a sun hat on her head and a bottle of sun lotion at her side. While she wished her legs would get darker, she knew she would get burnt to a crisp if she let them, and she didn’t want to spend the rest of her vacation with Delia in agony. Her bathing suit was newly bought, (from a boutique shop on the corner), and she was actually quite pleased with how it fit her. Curling her toes, Patsy idly wondered if Trixie would’ve agreed to red toenail lacquer and a green bathing suit. Or was it too Christmas-y? Probably. If Trixie wasn’t bogged down back in Poplar, she would have probably questioned Patsy’s sanity over the color of her toes.

There are actually a lot of things Trixie would question, if she hasn’t already.

But Patsy isn’t here to think about Trixie’s deductive processes. 

She’s here to have fun.

With Delia.

Speaking of which, where the hell was she?

The short Welshwoman was supposed to be getting lemonade from the hotel bar, but Patsy couldn’t spot her through the crowd. While Patsy adored her lemonade, she adored Delia far more and quite frankly couldn’t stand to lose sight of her. Craning her neck, Patsy squinted and tried to see if the brunette had disappeared into the restrooms, only to be blocked by a large torso that suddenly appeared in her line of sight.

“Hello,” a male voice said.

Patsy slowly removed her sunglasses so she could take him in.

He was young with wide shoulders and heavily tanned skin.

Patsy wasn’t interested.

“Yes?” she asked impatiently, though politely. Where the hell was Delia?!

“Would you like a drink? I noticed you looking over there and I thought you would like some lemonade or something.”

“I – no, I’m just looking for my friend,” Patsy said, irritably. She hated it when mediocre men flirted with her. It was demeaning.

“Oh, you have a friend? What do they look like? I could probably help you look.”

Patsy raised her eyebrows. Wow, he was very dedicated, and not very subtle. At all.

“I’m afraid she’s probably gone to our room, I should go meet her there,” Patsy said coolly, rising up swiftly.

“Oh, here, let me-” 

Patsy lurched back, the man’s outstretched fingers too familiar for someone she had just met.

“I think I can-” Patsy began hotly, though a restraining hand was placed gently on her shoulder.

“There you are! I thought I told you to meet me in the lobby!” Delia said brightly, feigning ignorance towards the hostility emanating from the ginger. Patsy turned slightly, to see the brunette was flashing a dazzling smile as she clutched a glass of lemonade in her hand.

“C’mon, you don’t want to keep Pierre waiting,” Delia continued, smiling apologetically at the disgruntled man, “I swear, you always leave the poor soul waiting for you.”

“Yes, of course,” Patsy said, catching on, “Thank you for the help.”

The man was left stuttering as Delia grasped Patsy’s forearm and tugged her away, into the hotel lobby.

“…really, Delia, ‘Pierre’?! How stereotypical can you get?!” Patsy hissed as they briskly walked towards the elevator.

“I’m sorry, that was the first name that popped into my head,” Delia muttered back angrily, “I was getting worked over by the bar before I rescued you; I mentioned a Pierre there, and I needed to maintain the story.”

The elevator opened and the couple was swift to claim it to themselves. When the doors shut, Patsy and Delia released a collective sigh.

“Why do men always ruin everything?” Delia asked bitterly, “I was looking forward to a dip in that pool.”

“Because they don’t think with their heads,” Patsy said deadpan, “They think with their-”

Ding!

The couple smiled innocently at an older man and woman waiting for the elevator before toeing around them and retreating into their room. When the door was safely shut, Patsy sighed as she sank down onto the bed. The ginger watched in shock was Delia tugged a string of her bathing suit top and it fell to the floor. Breasts exposed, the brunette casually straddled the bewildered Patsy. Running her hands over Delia’s thighs, Patsy sighed contently as she took in Welsh woman’s boldness…along with her exquisite breasts.

“We can go back down there tonight,” Patsy said absentmindedly, fingers plucking at the tassels of Delia’s swimsuit bottoms, “Hopefully there won’t a lot of people.”

“Mm,” Delia hummed, an impish look on her face as she leaned forward for a long, slow kiss.

“Seems like…we’ll need something to do…until then,” Patsy mumbled heatedly against Delia’s shoulder as her hands tugged the brunette’s waist flush against her body.

“Oh, what…will we…do with ourselves?” Delia gasped back as her hands nimbly untied Patsy’s bathing suit top. Trapping Delia’s knee between her thigh and her ankle, Patsy expressed a rare form of dexterity as she smoothly rolled the brunette underneath her. 

The two diffused into a fit of muted moans, lost in each other’s company as they waited for nightfall.

*****^*****

It wasn’t until dusk that the pair finally managed to disentangle their limbs and wander downstairs, into the lobby. They received strange looks from the people, all dressed up in formal wear, preparing for a night out on the town. Patsy and Delia paid no heed to their stares, meandering towards the patio, carrying their towels and sporting their new bathing suits.

They reached the doorway when Delia froze, causing Patsy to walk into her.

They heard voices.

Cautiously, the couple entered the pool area, seeing in the dimness two women paddling around the large pool, talking amiably to each other. Glancing at each other, Patsy and Delia walked slowly to a table to deposit their belonging and toeing off their shoes. The air was still greatly humid and heavy with heat, and the two were determined to cool themselves off in the pool.

In their silence, they couldn’t help but hear some of the conversation.

“…but darling, sharks don’t live in freshwater,” one was saying, floating casually on her back. 

“Bull sharks do! That poor boy was attacked by one in Louisiana!” the other said heatedly, “on the Mississippi!”

It took a confused moment for Patsy to place their accents. The one talking about the shark attacks had an obvious American, southern drawl, but the other woman’s accent was harder to place. It was more sophisticated than the drawl, and too methodical and casual to be a British chirp.

The floating woman released an exasperated sigh.

“Okay, Rita, but that doesn’t mean you should suddenly not want to go swimming in creeks, or lakes-”

“But of course it does! They could be anywhere! Only swim in water where you can see the bottom!”

“I…okay, sweetie, whatever you say,” the other woman surrendered, turning over and paddling towards the woman named Rita. In the lapse of conversation, Patsy and Delia went to the steps of the pool and sunk into the cool water. Patsy released an involuntary moan as her eyes fluttered in pleasure.

“It feels so nice,” Delia purred, stretching her body out as she kicked off into deeper water. Patsy lazily followed suit, until the water came up to their shoulders as they planted their feet on the pool floor. The other couple had drawn together on the deepest side of the pool, now whispering to each other. The behavior was suspicious enough for Delia and Patsy to share a conspiratorial look.

Suddenly, Delia floated close to Patsy, close enough for the ginger to give her a look that said, ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-Delia-Busby-we-are-in-fucking-public’.

Ignoring the glare, Delia grasped Patsy’s forearm and breathed, “Pats, LOOK at them.”

Biting back a retort, Patsy looked without appearing to, seeing the couple were abnormally close, giggling to each other, and throwing calculative glances at them every once in a while.

“…don’t they look familiar?” Delia asked softly.

“I…” Patsy stammered, not knowing what Delia was getting at.

“Hey, Red!” Rita shouted, seemingly to the other woman’s horror, “Have you ever been to the Elysium Auditorium?”

With a jolt, Patsy realized she was the one being addressed. At the name of the theatre, Patsy’s blood ran cold, the memories of the Floor Show running through her mind.

“I…yes,” Patsy stuttered, seriously considering lying but deciding against it.

The American’s smile widened as her friend’s eyes grew to the size of sand dollars.

“Did you go to the showing last Friday night?” Rita pressed, floating closer.

There was a moment of pent-up silence, Patsy unsure of how to respond and the other couple eagerly waiting for a confirmation.

“…yes,” Patsy surrendered breathlessly, making the air of conversation suddenly change. Rita released a musical laugh as her partner smiled radiantly. The pair swam eagerly towards Delia and Patsy, who were too stunned to move. 

“…we thought we recognized you from somewhere,” the nameless one said, “We sat behind you!”

“…oh!” Delia choked, completely bewildered at the change in events.

“Oh, Sarah, look, their cute British ones!” Rita exclaimed excitedly, as if she were looking at a box full of puppies.

Sarah started, looking properly scandalized for a split second before splashing her partner.

“You are going to have to forgive Rita,” Sarah said sternly as the other diffused into giggles, “She’s American and therefore has absolutely NO manners, whatsoever.”

“It’s okay,” Delia said with a wry smile on her lips, “you’re not American?”

“Me? Oh, no, I’m from Canada,” Sarah chortled, “How I came to like this one, I still have NO idea.”

“Because you were ‘oat and ‘a-boat,” Rita began in an overly-Canadian accent, eliciting another angry splash from the blonde. Laughing merrily, Rita dove beneath the water and reappeared a safe distance away from Sarah’s attacks.

“So, how did you two know about the show?” Sarah asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, um, Patsy actually planned the whole trip,” Delia said, the pair now much more relaxed in the presence of fellow lesbians.

“And I learned about it at Gateways…a club for…like-minded women,” Patsy finished, tilting back and dipping the back of her head in water.

“How on earth did YOU learn about it?” Delia exclaimed, Rita returning cautiously to the group.

“We didn’t,” Sarah said, “Rita’s rotten father died-”

“-Hey, I’m standing right here-”

“And we decided to take a much needed vacation with the inheritance,” Sarah finished, ignoring Rita’s idle interruption, “It was a pleasant coincidence.”

“It’s nice to know Europe has all these safe-houses for women like us,” Rita said, “Can’t say the same for the deep south…they still haven’t gotten over the race thing.”

“Where did you two meet, then?” Delia queried, looking confused, “If you’re from the south, and Canada is on the northern border…”

Rita shrugged, “I went north to see Niagara Falls…I met her at a hotel…” 

The American’s voice trailed off as a mischievous smile spread across her face. 

“It didn’t take long to see that we were…of similar tastes…” Rita finished slowly, “Sarah, being her usual self-”

“I don’t remember having to ask you twice to come to my ruddy room that night!” retorted Sarah, making the whole group laugh heartedly as the American’s face went beat red.

They swam around for almost an hour more, talking lightly and swapping stories of their experiences, the most predominant topic being how hard it was to keep their relationship under wraps.

And when they said good-night, they all shared knowing looks before arranging to go out to a café the next day for breakfast, feeling a sense of comradery with each other, despite their cultural differences.


	5. Roleplaying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy and Delia have some fun on the streets of Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because they totally did this and no one can tell me different  
> Please comment, I want to know if its good or not!

Delia sighed heavily as she regretted, for the thousandth time, not learning French. 

She was sitting outside in a café area, waiting for Patsy to meet up with her after she returned from the bank. She had chosen a table set off from the others, thinking no one would obnoxiously place themselves there. But, as fate would have it, two French men sat at the table next to her and began murmuring amongst themselves while glancing at her.

She was pretty positive they wouldn’t be doing that had she appeared to speak French.

Trying to distract herself, she went to examine the menu when she saw Patsy floating towards her from across the way. The red head was wearing sunglasses in the afternoon sun and wore a striking black dress that hugged her form and ended at her knees. Delia went to smile as she neared, only to see Patsy suddenly veer off and seat herself at an adjacent table, appearing to notice the men next to Delia.

“What the…” Delia muttered.

She went to say something, but her girlfriend hurriedly buried her face in her menu, ignoring her presence.

The two men also noticed Patsy’s entrance. One of the men said something to the red head, in which she responded lightly, in a demure tone, drawing a laugh from the two men. 

What the hell was Patsy doing?

The ginger suddenly looked at Delia slyly, giving her a soft smile that made Delia’s heart flutter. The waiter came over and took Patsy’s order before leaving abruptly and not taking Delia’s. Patsy once again returned to her menu.

Deeply troubled, Delia glanced at her before returning to her own.

The waiter returned, though the Welsh woman didn’t look up until he deposited a cocktail on her table; one that she didn’t order.

“Courtesy of the lady,” he gestured discreetly before sweeping off.

What the…

Patsy looked right at Delia and said something to her in French.

Delia froze. 

That…that little….

Oh.

OH.

Delia felt a smile tug at her lips.

Patsy, her little devil.

“I’m terribly sorry, I don’t speak French,” Delia said sweetly, much to the men’s amusement.

“Oh?! You’re British then?” Patsy exclaimed breezily.

“Yes. I’m from Wales.”

“How endearing, I’m from London!” Patsy purred, her sophisticated accent in full use.

Delia turned her chair so she could see the red head better.

“How extraordinary! Are you here on vacation?” Delia queried, perfectly aware that the two men had gone silent as they watched intently.

“Business,” Patsy responded dismissively, “Are you…waiting for a friend?”

“Oh, no,” Delia said airily, “I’m just…enjoying the view.” As she said this, she allowed her eyes to ravage over Patsy, making the red head blush furiously. Smoothly, Patsy rose up and approached Delia’s table.

“May I?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course! Thank you for the drink, Manhattan’s are my favorite,” Delia said enthusiastically as the men began to murmur excitedly.

“Well, what a guess,” the ginger crooned, extending a hand, “Patsy.”

“Delia,” the brunette said, shaking her hand, holding on for a bit longer than normal.

“Shall I order you a drink?” Delia asked, hailing the waiter, “Let me guess.”

Delia whispered the order while Patsy raised her eyebrows. As he went away, Patsy removed a cigarette and asked for a lighter. Delia smirked, for it was just convenient that Patsy had asked her to hold on to hers before leaving for the bank. The brunette smoothly removed it and lit the cigarette in Patsy’s lips before the red head pulled back, exhaling out of the side of her mouth. The waiter then returned with a White Russian.

“Dear me, Delia,” Patsy said after taking a sip, “What a terrific choice!”

Delia smiled flirtatiously. 

“Tell me,” Delia whispered conspiratorially, “Are they making fun of me?”

“On the contrary,” Patsy murmured back with a smirk, “They are wondering if your ass is as wonderful as your breasts.” Delia swallowed, suddenly not sure if Patsy was telling the truth or just fibbing.

The ginger leaned forward and her voice dropped.

“And to be completely honest, I think it is.” 

At this, Patsy spared Delia a real wink, her back to the two men. Delia’s cheeks burned and she hid them behind a menu.

“Are you going to order something to eat?” Patsy asked at the movement.

Delia REALLY couldn’t help herself.

“No, I’m not really hungry…at least, not for this.”

The brunette was distinctly aware of the Frenchmen sputtering into their drinks as Patsy coughed into hers.

“OH,” Patsy gasped, “Well…where are you staying?”

Delia’s smile widened. This was all strangely exhilarating and erotic. She gave the name of their hotel.

“Oh my, I’m roomed there too!” Patsy exclaimed innocently, “Room 3C!”

“What a small world,” Delia snickered, seeing the Frenchmen’s jaws drop. So the fucking assholes could speak English the whole time. 

*****^*****

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Delia moaned as Patsy’s mouth moved down her throat, her fingers tugging irritably at the Welshwoman’s dress.

“You were so wonderful darling,” Patsy gasped, “I think you gave those men a run for their money.”

Delia abruptly broke off the kiss.

“What on earth did they say to you?” Delia demanded.

Patsy chuckled, her hands slowly unbuttoning the clasps of Delia’s front.

“They asked if I knew you, and I said ‘No, but she’s cute’…I think they thought I was joking.”


	6. The After Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is so rated M its not even funny
> 
> Patsy and Delia experiment with some herbal substances in Paris
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because they totally did this and no one can tell me different
> 
> Also, the terminology is def not historically accurate, and I'm sorry

Patsy and Delia were down to their last three days in paradise before they had to drag themselves back to Poplar. They had been scrounging around for something to do when Rita and Sarah mentioned something about an exclusive party that night. They were of course enthralled at the idea, and at eight o’clock, headed out, dressed finely and with very nicely done hair.

It would be an understatement to say they had no idea what they were getting themselves into. 

In fact, they almost went back to the hotel when they arrived at a rundown building with pulsating music and a small crowd of women gathered around the door.

But they were spotted by Rita and Sarah, and were soon dragged inside.

*****^*****

Women lounged around on worn couches like cats as the four stepped around them, the music pounding in their ears. The lights were dim, making it hard to see the women talking amongst each other. In the center of the room a large crowd of women gathered to dance, their bodies pressed together as they grinded to the beat of the music. Patsy and Delia looked around in shock before realizing they were falling behind, so they hurried up to mount up the rickety stairs.

The second floor was a whole different story.

The lights were lower, and the music was softer as they dreaded carefully into a rather crowded sitting area, the air layered with smoke. It was unusually quiet, some women staring about themselves with glassy eyes while others made out against a wall or on a couch. Patsy and Delia stiffened as they put the stench of the smoke and the current scene together.

A dark-skinned woman came up to the quartet. She said something to Sarah, who shook her head and said something back. The woman quickly gestured for them to follow her further into the room, behind some beaded blinds into a makeshift room set off to the side. Several couches were arranged in a circle around a round table. On the table were instruments that Patsy felt that she could possibly figure out the use for, but would rather go without the information. To couples were currently occupying the couches, but they seemed oblivious to the newcomers as they continued to grapple with each other.

The woman appeared to be giving Sarah instructions before giving the rest of them a smile and leaving the room with a swish of smoke. Sarah and Rita plopped down on a couch, and Delia and Patsy had no choice but to take the last one, glancing worriedly at the table.

“So, what do we have here?” Rita said, examining the table to Patsy and Delia’s horror. She picked up an elongated pipe and studied it before passing it on to Sarah.

“We could do this,” Sarah said before glancing up at Delia and Patsy, “What do you think?”

To be quite frank, Patsy and Delia did not know what to say.

What were they supposed to think?

“I…ah…” Delia stammered.

“We…erm…” Patsy finished.

“Oh…my God,” Sarah gasped, her face falling, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! We just thought…that two had…”

“No,” Patsy said quickly, “We haven’t…done this…”

Rita softly swore under her breath.

There was an odd silence.

“Would you two…like to…” Rita asked tentatively, “I mean…it’s the perfect time to try it out.”

Patsy and Delia glanced at each other, unsure of how to respond.

“…Deels?” Patsy whispered.

“I…I dunno,” Delia murmured back, “I’d never thought about trying it, but it’s literally right there.”

“Would you like to?” Patsy pressed.

“I guess so…would you?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

And then the matter was resolved.

*****^*****

“Nice hit!” Rita approved as Delia emerged from the pipe coughing, smoke shooting out of her nostrils. Trying to dampen them as tears built in her eyes, Delia handed it over to Patsy, who gazed at the brunette worriedly.

They had been briefly shown how the pipe in question worked before Sarah excitedly prepared them a batch, explaining that it would take several hits for them to get high because it was their first time. Because of this, Rita and Sarah insisted that they watch and wait for the other two to get off before they took a puff. They were on their third hit and Delia was just getting the hang of it.

Taking the pipe, Patsy flicked the lighter on and heated the leaves before taking a long, practiced drag, the acrid smoke burning down her throat. Continuing to suck in air, Patsy pulled off the pipe before waiting a moment and releasing the smoke in a much more elegant manner than Delia.

This continued until the two lost count of their hits.

They cashed the pipe twice, leaving Rita to pinch some more marijuana from the container and drop it in the bowl.

It hit Patsy first.

The ginger had just handed the pipe back to Delia when she blinked rapidly, her eyes smarting. Rubbing them, she looked around the room and found it to no longer make any sense. Panic gripped her, and she suddenly couldn’t locate her own limbs as she sank into the couch in horror.

“Jesus…Fuck,” she sputtered.

“Red? Are you high?” someone asked her, Patsy beyond being able to recognize people.

Patsy couldn’t find her tongue to answer as she sunk even lower, her eyes widening.

“…Pats?” Delia whimpered, still clutching the pipe.

It took a moment to register that Delia was talking, and a moment longer to digest what she said. The ginger blearily turned her head to look at the brunette.

“Oh my God, she’s fucking baked!” Rita exclaimed, somehow appearing in front of Patsy’s face and peering into her eyes. Patsy blinked rapidly, not realizing that the whites of her eyes were the same red tint of her hair.

“Well, go on, Shorty, your girls there, we’re waiting on you!” Rita said, turning on Delia. But the Welsh woman only seemed frightened by Patsy’s reaction and made no move to continue smoking.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sarah soothed, seeing Delia’s nervous glance, “See? She’s enjoying it. Go on!”

Patsy had, in fact, developed a soft smile as she gazed around the room with glazed eyes.

Delia hesitantly continued to smoke.

*****^*****

Several hits later, Delia suddenly pushed the pipe away.

“Huh? You alright? You didn’t cash it, hun,” Rita said after checking the pipe’s contents.

“I don’t…I don’t want it,” Delia in a strange voice.

“What do you mean? This isn’t finished.”

“I don’t want any more,” Delia insisted, pressing it into Rita’s bewildered hands.

“Deels?” Patsy said distantly, looking at her girlfriend in concern. The brunette sounded frightened.

“…Jesus Christ!” Sarah whispered gleefully, “You are so fucking high! Look, Rita!”

The American came around and peered into Delia’s eyes before releasing a low whistle.

“Honey, your eyes are redder than a firetruck,” Rita chortled.

Delia wasn’t listening however. She looked around, panicked, as the room no longer was recognizable.

“Where are we?!” Delia gasped. Sarah’s smile disappeared as she swiftly stepped in front of the brunette.

“Hey, relax, okay? Your girl’s right here, she’s got you, alright? Just enjoy it, sweetie, can you do that?” Delia stared at Sarah, open-mouthed for several seconds before her words sunk in and she forced herself to slink closer to Patsy. 

“There’s an idea,” Sarah said in approval, “There’s a babysitter in the other room, just in case things get a little freaky. We’re going to go get higher than a kite, you two hang out here, okay?”

Patsy and Delia didn’t respond. Chortling, Rita and Sarah disappeared into a darkened corner.

*****^*****

Patsy spoke first, after a half an hour of rapt silence.

“Delia,” she said slowly, having to concentrate on forming the words with her numb tongue, “How do you feel? Can you walk?”

“I…I don’t know,” Delia said honestly, “Why?” To be completely honest, Delia was more than comfortable on the couch, and the idea of moving didn’t appeal to her.

“Well…I wanted to dance with you,” Patsy said, straightening up, “but I…I don’t know if I can walk.”

“Can you try?” Delia whispered, wide-eyed. Wordlessly, the ginger looked down at her legs before straightening up and standing up in a wobbly fashion. She then took a few experimental steps before turning and extending a hand to Delia. The brunette took a moment to grab it, before using it to help her stand as well.

“Okay,” Delia said, swaying slightly, “Do you want to go downstairs?” Patsy, who was terrified of miss-stepping and falling flat on her face, stood very close to Delia as they used each other for balance. The ginger nodded, and they meandered towards the stairs.

*****^*****

The next few hours were a blur.

They somehow made it to the dancefloor, and the music was soon throbbing in their veins as their high took full effect. Their bodies grew hot and sensitive, and colors were vivid as images morphed together as they made their way through the building. Patsy and Delia weren’t exactly dancing, being slightly too incapacitated for that; instead, they swayed their bodies to the music, and for a moment they felt like they were a part of the very chords that struck the tune. They diffused into a fit of giggles before Delia stopped and smiled gently up at Patsy, curiosity tugging her forward. Everything felt so different, so vivid; she wondered…

Moving slowly, savoring the moment, the brunette pulled Patsy’s face down for a kiss.

Their lips moved leisurely and for a moment their minds went completely blank as their bodies simply reacted. The only sensation was heat and tingling as they kissed for an indiscernible amount of time, before Patsy gently broke it off. Flashing Delia a scandalous smile, the ginger gave her a slight tug and they returned upstairs for a few more hits of the pipe. Patsy, now with much more confidence, took a deep drag before leaning over to Delia and blowing a stream of smoke into her accepting mouth before sealing it with a kiss.

They got so high, they forgot their names.

They made out on a couch, and Patsy pinned Delia below her, her hands snaking underneath Delia’s dress.

“Pats!” Delia squeaked, scandalized, “We are in public!”

But this seemed only to spur the ginger on further. Her fingers set Delia’s skin ablaze, and soon they were a puddle of moans as they succumbed to the effects of the drug.


	7. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy and Delia wake up and assess the damage from the night before
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell me if you like it!

Patsy’s eyes fluttered open as she tried to peer through the grimy film that had accumulated on them. Blearily blinking in the sunlight that streamed through their window, she stared up at the ceiling listlessly, not wishing to move. 

Everything hurt.

Her head pounded, her muscles were sore, and the back of her throat was dry. It took her a moment to register where she was, her mind bearings beginning to grind together albeit in a haphazard manner. 

She hadn’t the slightest clue how they got to their hotel room last night. She tried to remember, but everything was hazy. Patsy shifted slightly, looking for the warmth of Delia next to her, only to give pause. 

The ginger frowned and glanced down.

Patsy could not, for the life of her, recall how or why they were in their current sleeping arrangement. 

Patsy, in a state of extreme bewilderment, numbly grasped Delia’s ankles that were placed on either side of her shoulder. A snore rose from the brunette, her breath tickling Patsy’s feet as she lay right on top of the other, her stomach on Patsy’s groin. While Patsy loved every inch of Delia’s body, it is very disorienting to wake up with one’s lover’s posterior inches from your chin.

With a sharp intake of breath, Patsy grasped for a sheet to conserve their modesty, only to discover that the room was in disarray, the bed in an equal state of undress as they were, various clothes and sheets strewn across the floor. Feeling panicked now, Patsy shifted her legs beneath Delia in order to wake her up. The brunette mumbled something and hugged the ginger’s legs as she would a teddy bear, a dribble of drool sliding down the curve of Patsy’s calf.

“Deels!” Patsy hissed, jerking her leg harder.

The Welshwoman jolted with a soft cry, her head snapping up before slumping back down, having moved way too fast.

“Huh, what…what’s goin’ on, where’s the cat?” Delia started, shaking herself awake.

The brunette froze.

“Oh…what the…” Delia began again, only to have her voice die in her throat.

Very slowly, the brunette turned her head to look at Patsy, her hair a complete mess. She appeared to be taking in their lack of clothes, the state of the room, and their current positions and putting things together in her mind.

“I…we… oh NO,” Delia exclaimed, eyes widening as her face turned scarlet, “FUCK!”

In a rush, Delia rolled off of her lover, laying on her back and covering her face in her hands.

“We did not just do that,” Delia mumbled fitfully into her hands.

“Do what?” Patsy was forced to ask, having absolutely no recollection of what the other was referring to.

“Do you not remember?” Delia asked weakly, staring at her in shock.

“Give me a moment,” Patsy said grimly. The images in her mind were getting sharper, and soon her jaw dropped as memories came flooding back. 

“Oh…” Patsy said hoarsely, “I…OH.”

She remembered the part Delia was referring to now. Soon the ginger’s face was the same shade of red as her hair.

“Oh,” Delia simply echoed in response.

“That was…different,” Patsy said shyly, blushing furiously.

“Yeah,” Delia said, her voice an octave high, gazing at the other warily.

“Whose-” Patsy had to pause to clear her throat and start again, “Whose idea was that?”

“I don’t know, I think it just…happened.”

Patsy gave Delia a shy smile.

“I…I really liked it,” Patsy mumbled with a blush.

Delia cheeks went pink and she responded timidly, “I did too.”

There was a pause, in which Delia winced as she tried to pluck at her hair.

“Oh, come here darling,” Patsy cooed, taking sympathy at the bird’s nest on her lover’s head.

Patsy’s muscles screamed in protest as she shuffled into sitting position and Delia appear in no better state as she shuffled over and lay across Patsy’s lap. The ginger began to gently coax the twisted Kirby grips from Delia’s tangled tresses, the brunette lounging on her legs. Patsy was disoriented, and exhaustion pervaded her limbs. She was sure that that day was to be spent in bed as they tried to recoup from the night before.

“How did we manage to get back?” Patsy asked, her tongue thick.

“Sarah and Rita…you were high off your tits, Pats, I don’t know how we managed to get you in a cab.”

“What about you?” Patsy demanded sardonically.

“Only mildly off my tits,” Delia said smugly, wincing as Patsy tugged at a particularly sore spot on her scalp. With the clips fished out, Patsy gently ran her fingers through Delia’s hair, breaking up the old hair lacquer that still held it together. Delia sighed beneath her hands. 

“I don’t want to go back so soon,” Delia grumbled after a moment of silence.

“We still have two full days, sweetie,” Patsy said wistfully, her fingers beginning to trail down Delia’s neck and work into her shoulders. Delia moaned softly as Patsy began to really dig her fingers in, feeling how tense her lover was.

“That feels nice, cariad,” Delia purred contentedly. Patsy smiled at this and continued down her back and up again, and before long the brunette was dozing on the taller woman’s lap, lying sideways on the bed, her feet dangling off the edge. Shifting slightly, Patsy shuffled down to lay next to her, and Delia’s arms automatically wrapped around her and pulled her close. They readjusted themselves so that they fit perfectly together, like a jigsaw puzzle, and within minutes they descended into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Position number 69, WUT


	8. What Happens in Amsterdam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic is ending with a chapter of shameless smut.  
> Utterly.  
> Shameless.  
> Pats and Deels consume the wrong brownies and just go with it.

“Oh my God, I’m just so exhausted right now!” Delia exclaimed, collapsing dramatically on the couch of their hotel room. Patsy smirked at her and placed their newly bought pan of brownies on the side table before joining her lover on the couch.

“We can stay until noon tomorrow, but then we’ll have to catch a ferry,” Patsy murmured, making the other moan dramatically.

“At least we have some treats,” Patsy pointed out, opening the pan and removing a piece and handing it to Delia.

“Yes, at least we have brownies to keep us preoccupied,” Delia said sardonically, making the other chuckle. Having only eaten breakfast that day, the two descended into silence as they devoured their brownies, and Patsy was quick to deliver two more a short period after.

It was during their second brownie that Delia slowed her chewing.

“…Pats.”

“Hmm?” Patsy asked, her mouth full.

“Why…what are in these brownies?” Delia’s voice sounded funny, and mildly frightened.

“What do you mean, love?” Patsy demanded.

Delia squinted at the other before looking back at the brownie and then slumping back onto the couch.

“Oh…oh dear Pats,” Delia whimpered in a small voice.

“Delia, what-”

Patsy’s tongue thickened and she, too, slumped onto the couch.

“…Deels, what are in these brownies?” Patsy mumbled.

“Are these pot brownies?” Delia slurred, holding the brownie eyelevel and squinting at it.

“What do you mean, ‘pot brownies’?!” Patsy gasped.

“Like…with the smoke…but it’s IN the brownies,” Delia whispered conspiratorially.

“Are you saying we’re high right now?” Patsy whispered in a hushed tone back.

“I think so,” Delia murmured, blearily blinking, “Oh my God, it’s really kicking in.”

Five minutes later…

 

Patsy stared up at the ceiling, one leg dangling over the opposite arm of the couch while the fingers of her left hand brushed along the floor. She was having a terrible time focusing, and honestly had no clue how long she had been laying there.

“Deels,” Patsy pined.

“Pats,” Delia croaked.

Wishing to be closer to Delia, (for her mind had truly been wondering into some very taboo subjects), Patsy thoughtlessly rolled to her left, tumbled off of the couch, and landed squarely on the shorter woman.

“Oof!” Delia managed somewhat distantly, appearing mildly bewildered by Patsy’s sudden appearance.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Patsy said hurriedly.

“It’s okay Pats,” Delia sighed merrily, wrapping her arms around Patsy’s waist, “I was missing you.”

“Well I was missing you too,” Patsy said with a grin, before leaning down and giving Delia a rather messy kiss.

“…Darling,” Patsy mumbled almost shyly.

“Yes?”

“Fancy a go or what, Deels?”

The brunette raised her eyebrows.

“A ‘go’?”

“Well yes,” Patsy said with a side smile and a wink, “It sounds interesting, to say the least.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Delia mused, her thumbs tracing circles over Patsy’s hips, her eyes darkening. Her body felt warm all over, waves of sensations crashing together over her skin as she desperately tried to focus on the ginger laying on top of her. Patsy leaned in again and pressed a gentle and sweet kiss on Delia’s feverish lips before taking pause to look lovingly back at the brunette.

“Close your eyes, sweetie,” Patsy murmured in a shaky breath. Delia eagerly complied, fantastic, formless images taking shape in her mind.

“I need you to focus, Deels,” Patsy murmured, “Focus on my hands darling.”

As she whispered this, Patsy grazed her hands up Delia’s thighs, pressing the fabric up, freeing up her legs. Delia exhaled raggedly, Patsy’s feather light touch causing the electric waves crashing over her body to begin to move in one direction, making her heartbeat throb in every part of her body.

“Pats,” Delia gasped simply, in which the ginger mercifully leant down and kissed her, her own senses going into overdrive.

“Focus on where you want me,” Patsy panted heavily, trying desperately to keep her composure but her front was crumbling rapidly. The ginger’s fingers traced patterns on the insides of Delia’s thighs, making the brunette tremble underneath her touch.

“Cariad, please,” Delia whimpered. She no longer felt like she had control of her own body; it was reacting purely off of Patsy’s touch. Delia felt certain muscles go slack into fuzzy warmth while others grew taunt and the waves were forming together into a tidal wave, heading towards-

Patsy breathed raggedly as she nudged Delia’s knickers down, the feeling of the fabric sliding over her tingling legs making the brunette’s back arch. 

“Oh God, Pats,” Delia mumbled, her hands finding themselves in Patsy’s hair.

The ginger momentarily got distracted by this, but soon refocused and grazed her hand back up before gently pressing up against her pleasure, testing the response.

Delia moaned, deep in the back of her throat, her breath coming out hot and fast.

Patsy bit back her own moan as her fingers slid easily over her arousal, and she felt Delia’s legs tighten around her waist.

“Is this okay, sweetie?” Patsy gasped, gently pressing deeper, her forehead against Delia’s.

The brunette clutched Patsy’s torso closer and nodded vigorously into Patsy’s neck, eyes still firmly shut. Patsy spread her fingers rhythmically along Welshwoman’s arousal as the other hooked her ankles together around Patsy’s waist, trapping her there. The ginger tried desperately to remain steadfast, but at feel of being so close to Delia was making her groin grow hot and her legs to go limp with want. Patsy leaned down and hungrily kissed Delia, her free hand tearing at the buttons of the brunette’s blouse, searching for skin. Delia’s hands tugged at Patsy’s dress shirt, untucking it from her pants before running her hands underneath it, fingers grazing over the ginger’s navel. 

“Pats…dear God,” Delia moaned, smiling into the kiss as she unbuttoned Patsy’s shirt. Her senses were in overdrive, the ginger’s touch pushing her closer to the edge, and all she felt was an overpowering sense of bliss and ecstasy that she never thought possible. The brunette tightened her legs around Patsy’s waist, wanting more, needing more; she needed Patsy closer, needed the ginger’s skin against hers, needed to feel as if her soul was being intertwined with her lover’s.

Patsy was having a hard time focusing.

With Delia’s breath coming out in short, needy gasps, and her moans making the ginger’s skin tingle pleasantly, Patsy found it increasingly hard to ignore the heat pooling in her groin. Delia looked so undone, clung so tightly to her, and was tearing at her clothing so eagerly that Patsy was urged to probe deeper, while her free hand cradled the brunette’s face, stroking her cheek with her thumb as they continued to kiss feverishly. Patsy sucked on Delia’s bottom lip, muffling her own moan off pleasure as she felt Delia near her climax, the brunette fitfully squirming beneath her. 

“Patsy,” Delia whimpered, “Patsy…please…”

“I’ve got you darling,” Patsy gasped, her mouth moving down Delia’s neck, kissing the pale skin fervently. 

Soon after Delia sucked in a breath and softly cried out, her body feeling electrified as euphoria crashed over her like a tidal wave. Tremors ran through the brunette’s body as Patsy lingered, riding out Delia’s climax along with her.

Patsy encompassed Delia with her body, pulling her into a never-ending hug as the brunette recovered. Delia hugged back tightly, burying her face underneath Patsy’s chin, in which the ginger felt Delia’s teeth nibbling on her neck between sweet kisses. The brunette craftily tugged Patsy’s loosened shirt off, in which Patsy eagerly complied. As if coming out of a trance, the brunette suddenly used her legs, (still wrapped around Patsy’s waist), to twist the ginger beneath her with a giggle. Patsy easily rolled over, her arms thrown up in surrender as her hazy eyes gazed up at Delia with longing. Delia bit her lip and did that THING with her eyes before she leaned down and kissed Patsy passionately, one of her hands quickly undoing the buttons of Patsy’s slacks. With a soft curse Patsy reached down to assist her as the kiss got more heated. With a final kick, the slacks were off and Delia chuckled in a low tone as she went back to kissing Patsy, her right hand pressing gently over Patsy’s knickers, making the ginger moan deeply.

Smiling into the kiss, Delia easily slid down Patsy’s knickers, the movement making Patsy tremble and release a shuddering breath. 

“I love you,” Patsy murmured, pulling Delia back down for a kiss. 

“I love you too,” Delia mumbled back, her hands grazing back up the inside of Patsy’s thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Patsy’s hips bucked as they kissed again, and the ginger grazed her teeth over Delia’s bottom lip when she felt the brunette unhook her brassiere and remove it. It bewildered her then, when the Welshwoman began to pull back.

Patsy tried to continue the kiss but Delia placed a finger over her lips, a wicked smile on her face. On her elbows, Patsy watched, bewildered, as Delia almost cautiously leaned forward and kissed along her collarbone, teeth grazing over skin. As her mouth moved down to her chest, Patsy released a moan as her head tilted back and her eyes fluttered.

“Deels,” Patsy rasped softly, wanting her mouth up, where she could kiss her.

Delia’s hands trailed over Patsy’s sides before they rested on her waist, almost holding her there was the brunette moved her lips further down, until she began sucking gentle bruises along Patsy’s breasts. Patsy released a strangled gasp, her back arching in response as Delia explored every crevice of Patsy’s chest with her mouth. Waves of hot and cold ran over her skin like a current, and she felt as if she was alive for the first time.

“Delia,” Patsy moaned thickly as the brunette’s mouth continued down her navel, the ginger’s eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overrode her senses.  
And then Delia’s mouth was on her groin and all Patsy knew was a feeling of extreme bliss, in which she moaned loudly in response, her hands tangling in the brunette’s hair.

“Oh, God…Deels,” Patsy sputtered as the other delved deeper, her arms wrapping around Patsy’s thighs and pulling her closer. The ginger’s body surged with pleasure, and her hands anchored themselves in Delia’s scalp as the brunette gently traced idle patterns over Patsy’s skin, her fingers burning ice-cold. Delia swiped her tongue in long strokes, sometimes pausing to suck over Patsy’s clit, making the ginger gasp as her face lit up in ecstasy.

Patsy’s hands turned rigid and her back arched as she neared her climax, making Delia slow slightly, and linger longer before each swipe. 

“Delia, good God,” Patsy managed before she climaxed, the brunette still lapping, helping the ginger fall into a chasm of bliss. When she was done, Delia swiped her mouth and trailed gentle, loving kisses up Patsy’s stunned body, still trembling from the aftershocks. Patsy was quick to smother the brunette with a deep, passionate kiss as their limbs tangled together. Lost in the lust, the heat, and the fevered love that had consumed them, soon exhaustion pervaded their limbs after an indiscernible amount of time, and they fell asleep on the floor, heaped on top of each other, perfectly content and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this fic, it was a bit more graphic than my others, and I'm very glad y'all stuck with it and continued to read. As always, I strongly urge you to leave a comment, please do, I want to know what y'all liked so I can continue to write. Your feedback is my currency:))) 
> 
> Let's face it, Patsy and Delia would be up to no good in Paris anyways

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all are goin' straight to hell.


End file.
